


scars

by itsagamefortwo



Category: The Expanse (TV), The Expanse Series - James S. A. Corey
Genre: F/M, fluff and no plot is my favourite jam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-29
Updated: 2020-03-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:15:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,124
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23383588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itsagamefortwo/pseuds/itsagamefortwo
Summary: just a little ficlet thing about all the many scars jim and naomi had accumulated over years.' The good thing about James Holden, she – along with the rest of the solar system – had discovered, was he didn’t believe in secrets. Which really came in handy when her curiosity got the better of her in the middle of the night and she discovered a new little flaw on his skin. '
Relationships: Jim Holden/Naomi Nagata
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	scars

Jim had a lot of scars from a lot of different battles, some of them that Naomi had been there for and some that she hadn’t. It was the ones she hadn't been there for that always caught her attention. Made her want to know the story behind how he got the jagged line on his left bicep.

(he was twenty and believed he was invincible and had jumped an old wire fence on L-5 while showing off to a girl he had just met. his boot got caught in one of the links and he had fallen, shirt and arm tearing on a sharp bit of metal. he'd been so embarrassed he'd asked one of the other boys in his unit to stitch it up.)

The good thing about James Holden, she – along with the rest of the solar system – had discovered, was he didn’t believe in secrets, no matter how dark or embarrassing they might be. Which really came in handy when her curiosity got the better of her in the middle of the night and she discovered a new little flaw on his skin. It also helped her to reveal the little details about herself that had been left hidden even after baring her soul in a bed on Luna. So when, one night, he kissed her shoulder lightly and asked quietly about the scar there, she told him. 

(she’d been sixteen and fixing a broken pipe between the hulls of a ship and pulled herself in too quickly, cut herself on the same pipe she had been trying to fix. a rooky mistake.)

Every little scar had a story and every time she thought she knew them all, another would show itself to her. The faint line on his pinky finger that was just a little bit paler than the rest of his skin.

(seven years old and he’d been helping his mother sophie cut pears in the kitchen when the knife had slipped and he’d cut himself. she had rushed him over to sink to wash it and given up a bandages with some children's cartoon on.)

The scar on his ankle that started to itch after a long day of wearing the thick Martain made socks Alex had gotten him for his birthday. 

(twenty-eight and shot at while on eros and trying to run back to the  _ roci _ . 

“I was there for that one.”

“Right of course, my bad.” he’d chuckle and try to think of something else.)

The little half circle on the inside of her bicep that was normally too small and too hidden to ever be seen by anyone else but her. 

(fourteen and she’d snuck into a party with her friends on some station. she’d been dancing with her arms flailing all over the place and knocked an _honest-to-god_ **_glass_** bottle off a tray and a piece had sliced at her skin.

“Did they make you pay for the honest-to-god glass bottle that you broke?” Jim asked, threading his fingers with hers and laying them against his chest.

“They might have, but we legged it before they could work out who had done it.” She shrugged with her one free hand, a squeal escaping her lips as Jim poked her lightly in the ribs. 

“Oh you bad girl!” )

The thin diagonal line that covered five inches of his ribs, Naomi found herself running her thumb over that one the most whenever they would lie in bed and talk about everything and anything.

(nineteen and still in basic training, he’d been practicing hand to hand combat with someone and they’d thought they were both ready to add in an extra level of threat. they’d both wandered into the medic building needing stitches and grinning.

“A lot of your stories could have been avoided if you weren’t an idiot, you know,” Naomi had muttered one night with her head on his chest, feeling the rumble of his laugh.

“But then I’d only have life or death stories to tell, which seems little more depressing in the scheme of things.”)

One day, she knew –  _ hoped _ – they’d run out of stories to tell each other. That they’d know each other, every scar, every freckle, every laugh line and wrinkle. That they’d be stuck repeating the same stories over and over, pretending it was the first time they’d heard about how Naomi got the three scratch like scars on the back of her thigh. 

(eighteen and the first time she’d seen a cat in real life, it had jumped out at her while visiting a friend and clung on until it drew blood.

“Not a cat person then?” Jim teased.)

It was something she had never let herself hope for again, the casual intimacy and knowledge of someone you loved. And she knew they were never guaranteed a long life together – with their track record they’d be lucky to get ten years – which just made every night they got curled up in a bunk, in a bed, in a borrowed cot, all the more precious. 

Sometimes Jim would blurt out a question just as she was on the cusp of sleep, like it had occurred to him a long time ago and had only just come back to him and he was worried he’d forget it again. He’d always look a little guilty after asking, but the curiosity in his eyes about the three inch uneven bit of skin on her lower back roused her enough from sleep to answer. 

(twenty and working on her first ship after running from marco and leaving filip and her head hadn’t been fully on the job. she’d misjudged her distance from a loose part of the hull, it had torn clean through her vac suit and her skin.) 

There was something about knowing at the end of a long shift there would be a bed waiting for her in the room she shared with Jim. That she would lie down close to the wall and he’d lie down closer to the edge, that if she turned onto her side she could watch his chest raising and falling, that she could reach out a hand and let her fingertips trail across his skin and all the stories etched into it. 

That he could do the same to her. And know where and how and when she’d gotten each one. Naomi really hoped neither of them would ever have to tell the story of a new scar that the other hadn’t been there for again. She hoped the universe would give them that at least. And if it didn't, she at least hoped it would give them the chance to tell the story of it as they curled up against each other in bed.

**Author's Note:**

> honestly i only wrote this because in leviathan wakes holden says something about a scar that naomi has on her back and like. i wanted to know how she got the scar jim dont leave me hanging like this. so i wrote a thing. okay thanks. enjoy!!!
> 
> anyway!!!  
> hope you enjoyed! comments and kudos are appreciated!! mwah xox  
> you can also find me on [tumblr](https://tangledstarlight.tumblr.com/)!


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